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[Ransom]

Chapter 1: The Journey
(or "Yay, more boats.")


You’re nothing but scum, do you hear that! Scum!”

It was dawn. The cusp of a bright new morning. The great light of the great light maker fought its way above the horizon like a cosmic delta, darting between the clouds and slowly spreading to every corner of the sky. To most of the empire, it was the refreshing start of a brand new day. The cock crowed.

When he heard it, a barely-clothed Ransom was lying in the dirt in front of a huge Koridaien villa, wishing he was more of a morning person. A hulking figure towered over his sprawled shape, and it was angry.

“Who in the goddess’s name does a street urchin like you think he is anyway?” The man kicked him, hard.

“Scum!”
Although he was dressed in nobleman’s attire, the big man packed a punch. Ransom suspected an ex-militant.

The oppressor dispatched out another painful boot to ransom’s ribcage. From behind the man, a girl’s high pitched scream cut the morning air.

“Stop it daddy!”

He whipped around.

“Silence Child! Haven’t you disgraced me enough! I go to visit our estates for one night, I trusted you as lady of the house for the first time only to return and discover a slimy lizard in my daughter’s own bed!”

By this time Ransom was already standing, and facing his attacker.

“Don’t worry darling,” Ransom grinned at the girl, “I’m not gonna beat up your daddy.” Her big beautiful eyes brightened and she smiled back.

Of course this only served to anger the young beauty’s father more, and with a roar he took a swing at Ransom, who having grown tired of all this pain, easily dodged the assault.

“Really sir, or Lord… uh, what was your title?” Another fist brushed past his face.
“Um… sir, did you really think, at her age...” Ransom shot another wink at the girl as he dodged blows, “That Lilith wouldn’t be ready for a man in her life?”
She giggled

“She is barely 17! And you are scum!” The noble relaxed his onslaught and leaned over panting. His big, hairy forearms weren’t what they used to be.

“Do you really think that you have immunity from the law in this land!” he gasped between heaves of breath, “The goddess will judge you as she judges all scum!”

Actually Ransom did have immunity. But he had to wonder what exactly this lord… lord Whathisname was really implying he needed immunity from. Consensually seducing a beautiful young maiden of a year over legal age (at least in the empire, those Calatians were popping out babies at 12) didn’t exactly sound like summoning the goddess’s divine wrath to him.

Hurting civilians however, would probably earn him some form of demotion. It was time to be gone.

Ransom blew a kiss to Lilith.

“Until next time, darling!” Then, he ran.

With his daughter still giggling, the buffoon could only hurl abuse at the speeding figure.
“That’s right you scum! Run! Next time I find you in my daughter’s bed I will kill you myself! Go home to your dungheap you worthless pile of shi…”
The enraged voice faded off to a whisper as Ransom overed a hill.

He stopped to catch his breath, only to find he really hadn’t lost any. There was an ache in his ribs however, and made him wonder if Lilith's stunning looks had really been worth it. She was a lot richer than his usual fare, and something about the daddy’s-gone-away situation was just incredibly alluring. But he was sore, and practically naked, and stranded on some country road.

A stab of pain hit his chest, this time, with no relation to his ribs.

He looked down at his bare chest. A wickedly distinct black shadow was beginning to form in the middle of his chest like a bruise from hell. A kind of jagged array of small, thin veins were beginning to push themselves out from the middle of the bruise.

They were black.


*************



After obtaining some clothing and hitching a ride on a passing wagon, Ransom reached the city and began to wander around, idly wasting the hours away. As head of Lord Steel’s personal guard, he had been surprised when he hadn’t been included in the troops heading for the Alliance force, and now he didnt know what to do with all this time off.
Until now, open war had never been his specialty; that is until he had fused with a piece of the Blacklite. Now, everything was becoming his specialty. Over the last two years his rapid growth had surprised even Steel, his trainer, the same man whose past was riddled with similar experiences of sublimation.

This progress was putting Ransom in a good mood. Could this self-improvement finally make up for what he had lost?
He thought about it. No… still nothing rivalled the ability of flight.

He had reached the market. Browsing some tables, he noticed a man out of the corner of his eye who was obviously targeting him. Intent on his goal, the young figure pushed and bustled through the crowd impatiently. Ransom waited, ignoring the urge to make the first move. The stranger approached without fear.

“Viscount Ransom of Thebes?”

He nodded to the courier and received a scrawled note from between the man’s dirty fingers.

The note was in Steel’s handwriting.

“A Mission. Here is your team.”

The rest was just a list of names, but they didn’t matter. Ransom knew which mission this was already, and if this was from Steel himself it meant he was to head it up. Just a simple intel reconnaissance , but it was very important.
He could feel it.

He turned to the courier and gave him the list of names.

“Distribute these instructions to every individual on this list: ‘By divine order of the Empire, you will be present at the royal docks tomorrow at dawn. We travel light. R’. It is extremely important that this message reaches all recipients before sundown, so hurry.”

The courier bowed and took the note. He made the appropriate adjustments, and then intently disappeared into the crowd.



“Would you like to buy that, gracious sir?”

Ransom stared at the stall-merchant who had spoken, and looked down to suddenly find himself fiddling with an ovular talisman. It was strange, he couldn’t remember ever picking it up.

“Er… yes.”

He payed the man and pocketed the strange object. Maybe he would give it to Tai’lor for a lookor one of the palace scholars for a look. Which reminded him, he need to get back to the palace. There was much to do, and it was important that everything went perfectly. After all, they were heading straight into the lion’s mouth.

The Wall Of The Gods.



(all Koridaiens feel free to join! I think its gonna be a good one.)

Edited by RNSM, 05 May 2010 - 12:00 PM.

[Egann]

Egann got up with a jolt and started his morning exercises. PT first. PT first. That mantra was just about beaten into his brain from Basic. Before he was a morning person. Now, he was already done with stretching and was halfway through his first PT rotation; ten push ups, ten pull ups, ten crunches, ten squats, lather rinse, repeat ten times. More if you aren't going to be busy. Then comes fifteen minutes of jumping rope -and it's kind of hard to jump a one-inch hemp rope; it catches the wind- followed by twenty minutes of sparring with imaginary opponents, armed to the teeth with spears, bows, swords, shields, full armor, and all Egann had was his sword and his underwear. Good thing they were imaginary.

The whole of Egann's PT took fifty five minutes, finally coming to an end at six thirty in the morning with closing stretches. All that after the second worst night's sleep in his entire life. Six weeks of Basic and PT rotations like this every day had made Egann so he didn't feel human until after his last stretch. Off to the civy showers; the landlord had been plenty couth with Egann's money, but his wife had made it clear that while he was spending a thousand rupees a month for room and board with a small city flat, he should be washed up and clean-shaven -bye, bye beard- by seven thirty for breakfast or he wasn't eating.

The shower water was cold. Shockingly so, after all that, really. The landlord had specifically warned Egann to not drink it. Apparently the 'shower' water was little more than rain run-off from the gutters kept in the attic, and though it felt clear and cold, there were few ways more sure to land you in bed for a week than to drink the stuff. Still, a shower every morning -even a cold and toxic one- was a convenience Egann thought he could get used to.

Egann glanced at the desk. That Alliance remote detonator sat there, a glass bulb with a coil of wire and a small hexagonal chip with the lightning element emblem etched on it. Next to that a book on rune magic and next to that, a book on swordsmanship, both from the library. He hastily closed the books and stashed away the detonator into his hideaway -a hollow where Egann had removed a brick from the wall, hidden by his doorposts. He didn't think anyone knew the detonator still existed besides himself, but he couldn't take that chance.

Besides, he was a lightning mage, that was lightning magic, and he'd been intimately involved in obtaining the thing. As far as Egann was concerned, the detonator was his, good and proper, to toy with until he came up with something.

Down the stairs and to breakfast he went.

"Mornin'." The landlady said, tending to some eggs in a pan which were finishing setting.

Egann bit his tongue about pointing out that, with eggs, done in the pan is over-done on the plate, and gave her a polite smile. "Morning, ma'am."

"I hope you slept well." She sighed. "The only room we had left was right under the newly weds."

Yeah. Newly weds. I kind of noticed. I'll have to do some shopping today and mix myself up something to help me sleep with that racket.

"I fell asleep right away." Egann continued to grin.

A knock at the door. "Who could that be at this early hour?" she said as she took the eggs off the heat and walked up to the door.

"Special Delivery to Sergeant Egann Gauvin, 109th Infantry Scouts."

"That'd be me." Egann lifted his collar to reveal a brass pin, shaped like a dagger with the number '109' stamped on it. The messenger handed him a letter and bowed his way out.

Egann took one glance at the seal, then popped it open. "Hmm. Change of plans. I'm needed...elsewhere."

Komitaa, eh? It's been a while since I was home.

[Elvenlord]

Captain Elendir and the general had left them main Koridai army a couple hours ago. The sun was setting, and all was silent. The captain had not said a word to his superior as they rode, despite spending quite some time riding together. He did not know the general well, and would rather not make a bad first impression. Instead, he went over the objective details in his head. Some sort of intel mission, meeting up with Viscount Ransom. Mithelen was rather confused as to why he was selected for this assignment, he was a soldier, not an information-gatherer. Maybe they just needed some extra muscle. He had considered asking Lord Steel was to why he was picked, but decided against it. The battle he must be planning is far more important, and the captain trusted his lord's wisdom. To do otherwise would be... unwise. So here he was, riding beside a general, off to do who-knows-what.

OOC: I'm sorry for pulling you in SL, I can edit you out if you want

[SL the Pyro]

(OOC: No, that's quite alright Elven. I was hoping to get into this thread too, it's just I couldn't think of anything good.)

--------------------

Well, at least his new traveling companion was quiet... normally General Shadow wouldn't have minded striking up a conversation to get to know his colleague better, but right now he was just too pissed off. First he returns home to Koridai only to get thrust into this massive battle with the remnants of the Alliance, then he's teleported -- or whatever Chikara did -- halfway across the country, an act that nearly killed the old bag of a horse he was forced to ride, and now he was being told to completely forget about that huge confrontation despite Chikara having not returned from there to go off gallivanting with Ransom, forced to abandon his group of soldiers he'd grown to know so well and could only hope they didn't die. He had been given the runaround for a good while without any real progress being made, and it was starting to wear on him.

He desperately wanted to scream out his frustration... but he didn't want to frighten Captain Elendir here. There would be time to sort through his issues later when he was at sea. He could survive that long.

At the very least though, it was enticing that he'd get to fight along Ransom again. Just like old times perhaps, when they were both Woodies... maybe.

Before the two knew it, they were at the royal docks. A cursory glance around showed a small-ish ship being loaded for a trip. "Guess we're a little early..."

Edited by SL the Pyro, 18 May 2010 - 12:49 AM.

[Ransom]

The Imperial Wharf was half a day's journey from the city centre, so by the time Ransom and his entourage arrived, it was well past the witching hour. The men worked through the night preparing for the morning’s departure, loading the ship and making any final supply runs. The sun rose meekly and attempted to pierce the thick fog that had descended during the night. It was a failure, and the docks were left with a weak, soggy light that combined with the hundreds of creaking watercraft around the docks, gave the morning air a strange eeriness.

Ransom sat up in his bed, giving up on a seemingly useless nap.
Being the highest ranked individual among them, Ransom had been allowed some sleep upon arrival. However in the increasingly busy air of the biggest harbour in Koridai, it wasn’t doing him much good.
After dressing himself, Viscount Ransom stepped out onto the deck to view the ship and observe the crew. It was a small unassuming craft, a general issue Koridaien Clipper, designed after the old Fortress vessels for speedy passage. It was perfect for this type of mission. However, it wouldn’t be the mode of transport favoured by this assignment, no Ransom had something else planned. Something he had spent the entire previous day officiating.
The Clipper was just the start.


Ransom strode over to edge of the deck and leaned over the railing. The harbour was now completely full of life, merchants and sailors and fisherman rushing back and forth between docks like a giant seething mass.
As the fog lifted, the sheer amount of boats staggered Ransom. They numbered in the thousands, stretching across the huge expanse of The Red Bay like a wooden plague. A good number of them we’re from the imperial fleet of course, but that didn’t stop the significant fleet of commercial fishermen and merchants from dominating the water space. Koridai was quickly becoming the trade capital of the world, and they were it’s vital organs.

Ransom considered the devastation that a surprise strike on the harbour would inflict to Koridai’s economy. The force of such an offensive could both cripple one of the Empire’s main sources of supplies and wealth, and create an unprecedented diversion. The Bay was far enough from the city… it might even distract the goddess from her central post…

“Sir. Most of your men have arrived sir.” The soldier saluted, and then motioned a ways down the wharf.

Ransom gave him a distracted look. “Tell them to come on board. I will brief them and then we will be ready to depart.” The soldier grunted and Ransom paused, “We will be ready?”

“Uhhh… Yes sir. Of course.” He rushed off, forgetting his salute.


A few moments later, the men that Steel had assigned to him stepped on board. He recognised a couple of them. Was that… Shadow? A surprise to see his face again. It puzzled Ransom. There wasn’t supposed to be many who had lived through Olimandias, but everyone from the old wars seemed to be alive and kicking. The strong survive, he reasoned.
Just look at Koridai and Calatia.


His "elite" team stood before him, feeling the morning chill as a favourable breeze blew eastwards. He surveyed them.
This mission was an important reconnaissance, and Ransom wasn't going to let any fools slow him down. They needed to be ready to serve their Empire. Ready to fight and die for their goddess. Ready to bleed.

Ransom began to address them.


They would depart soon.

Edited by RNSM, 18 May 2010 - 09:44 AM.

[Egann]

Pack light. Yeah. To Egann's eyes, 'pack' meant 'have everything you think you might need' and 'light' meant 'we don't want to fuss with your luggage.' Put it together and you have a challenge every scout worth his salt will oversalivate after; an ultralight travel challenge.

Egann bought a coat, ripped out the filling, and packed, among other things, extra shirts, extra socks, extra underwear, a phrasebook, a compass, a shaving razor, and moderate amounts of three different internationally accepted currencies. Including both the regular and dress uniform in all that meant the jacket was quite padded. Warm, perhaps, but padded.

Oh, and a hip flask of Heat Lightning. For medicinal purposes only, of course. Well, mostly, anyways.

The downside of such preparation? Egann was LATE! He casually walked down the plank onto the cutter -Egann figured only to be temporary transportation; it was too small to be truly open ocean-worthy- and slid into the background to assess his companions.

The letter had said his commander was a particular Viscount Ransom, but no one struck his eye on this part of the boat as looking like a count. In fact, most of the people around looked like ordinary crewmen except for two men standing by the cabin -both clearly officers by their uniforms- and a third man, probably the count.

Egann was -once again- out of uniform. As he was supposed to be because he was suspended. This time, however, he wouldn't point that out. Besides, he was wearing his division pin, right? Any scout on the field would call that in uniform enough. He twisted the brass pin on his collar to catch the sun, strode up to them, and saluted. "Sergeant Egann Gauvin, 109th Infantry Scouts. At your service, sirs."

[SL the Pyro]

Well... it had certainly been quite a while since Shadow had seen Ransom. Clearly he had changed in the years... immediately he noticed the lack of his wings. It seemed that they had some catching up to do... but it could wait until after they had set sail.

While listening to Ransom's overview of the mission -- and he did make sure to listen, unlike Solomon and Steel, this was someone he actually respected enough to lend a conscious ear to -- he also surveyed the other soldiers surrounding him with the intention of going on this mission as well. Elendir was here... of course, he had arrived with him. Next was... an out-of-uniform soldier wearing nothing but his division emblem. Must've been in a hurry, he supposed, though he didn't recognize this one...

"Sergeant Egann Gauvin, 109th Infantry Scouts. At your service, sirs."

Ah, there we go. Then there were a random assortment of other inconspicuous soldiers, faces masked in armor. And of course, there was Ransom himself.

There was a voice in the back of his head nagging at him to complain about the obvious lack of soldiers for this trip; for an overseas mission to still fairly-unknown territory, he didn't think this wasn't an ideal number of men... but having he himself just went to Almirante to slay a Hydra with even less men than this, and none of them Elites, he didn't have a right to complain. It didn't help that Ransom technically outranked him.

Oh well, if there was a problem, he'd solve it like always. Surely he and his old Woodie comrade could deal with whatever obstacles were thrown their way.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 31 May 2010 - 11:13 PM.

[Egann]

OoC: So....Calatia's spanking our anuses at RPing and this quest looks KIA. Well, I want to give it a kick in the balls. No life after this and I'll know something is wrong. As usual with NPC's, anyone can take and develop this one any way you choose.



The dock rose and fell on the floating bladders, light footfalls of one pair of shoes approaching largely muffled by crests of water breaking.

The man in the navy cloak turned around to face the person approaching. A woman in her late twenties. He'd memorized her file.

He smiled to himself. Women were always so preoccupied in their youth with their appearance, a war for the attentions and affections of men. Boys dressed like men, really. Men didn't pay attention to such things. And yet, women were such abominable measures of what men found attractive. Case and point with Lysirra, here. She had just about everything a man would look for in a woman; a sculpted face, slender but not underweight form, and -even if not particularly impressive- a very fine chest. Yet because she had hair the exact color of a mouse she was considered not just ugly, but positively repulsive by her female peers. She kept that hair short, too. Said it was because it was in the way, but he knew what she was really thinking. Less hair makes the color less apparent, right? Like color or length mattered with an hourglass like that in hand.

He almost slapped his own face to remind himself that men did NOT appraise women on such features. "Timely arrival," he sighed at her, feigning disinterest. "Timely enough for a fashionably late arrival, at least. They're aboard that little cutter."

She didn't respond.

"Chikara found out about us," He continued, "sort of, at least. She knows of us, not what we're after. This lot's an investigation to see if we can't be made to bend the knee. I don't need to tell you that it would be problematic if they discovered too much."

"How did we-" Lysirra began.

"-find out?" the man in blue finished for her. "Don't ask. Even I don't know. It's better that way, anyways. If all of us knew where our moles were, they probably wouldn't be there for long, now would they?" He waved the thought away. "In any case, these guys are too high up the ladder to just disappear. Some of them, at least. They'll be missed and Solomon's ilk'll start asking questions we can't afford to be answered. Join their party and observe their progress. Stand by for further orders, otherwise. Especially if they start to discover too much. I expect regular reports." He handed her a brown leather folder. "Here is your letter of introduction and so forth."

[Renegade]

Ooc: Hope its not too late to get in on this.


Alabast had only just returned to the capital from visiting where he buried his master, always having spent a week out of a year there, when a messenger boy ran up to him.

"Sir, I have a message for you," said the messenger stuffing the note in his hand and speeding off.

Alabast raised an eyebrow and looked down to read it.

Written on it was:

Report to Viscount Ransom.
-Lord Steel.

A mission? thought Alabast, as he turned to head to the rendezvous point.

***

Arriving at the Imperial warf, Alabast boarded the boat.

"Alabast here reporting for duty, my apologies for my tardiness, sir."

[SL the Pyro]

Another person appeared on the boat. Alabast, he calls himself. Shadow was going to say he was late, but... apparently he already knew that and apologized for it. Well, at least he was slightly responsible. But as the General turned around to look at his superior for this mission...

He found himself staring at empty space. "Wha?"

Shadow did a double-take. Ransom was not on the deck. He was still nearby, he could sense him, but... he was no longer right here with the men he was supposed to be briefing. Goddamnit, where did he go?

His brow twitched, and he addressed Alabast. "It seems you may not have to worry about being late. The Viscount just pulled a vanishing act."

It wouldn't be so bad if he could just assume command in his place, he had the authority to do so since he was -- probably -- the highest-ranked on the ship aside from Ransom himself, but he didn't know the slightest thing about the mission he was being sent on. That's what Ransom was supposed to be here doing now: briefing everyone. He swore to hunt Ransom down and rip every last hair out of his skull if he didn't get back here in a hurry. And if he couldn't find him... well, the only thing he could do was return home. And fill out a report stating why he didn't do as one of the Council of Four had personally asked him. Damn it, Steel.

Ugh. This was not one of Shadow's better days...

--------------------

(OoC: Yeah, this is pretty much a warning. I PM'd Ransom and Steel a while back -- around a month ago -- about getting this going, and it hasn't. If this doesn't get a move on soon, I'm going to jump over to "Call of the Cursed" and mess with Calatia a bit.)

Edited by SL the Pyro, 10 July 2010 - 08:26 PM.

[Steel Samurai]

OOC: Hey guys, sorry about the delay. Was hoping ransom would get off his ass and do something, but I'll give you something till he returns.

The ship's first mate approached the party.

"Viscount Ransom sends his apologies. A bout of 'seasickness' has laid him up in his cabin for the time being. He'll come give you the rundown on the mission when he is in better spirits. For the moment, make yourselves comfortable. As you may have already been able to tell, this ship is no ordinary frigate. It was assembled and tested in record time by our scientists using Vildmarkan Technology. Have a look around. We'll be weighing anchor shortly."

As the crew busied themselves with the mooring lines, it was soon apparent to the military party that this was indeed no ordinary vessel. There were two masts, one forward and one aft, but rising from the center of the ship was a massive, crude iron pipe belching billowy black smoke. On the center port and starboard sides of the vessel were large paddlewheels, and from deep within the bowels of the ship the clanking of machinery could be heard.

"She should get us to Vildmark in just under half the time a sailing vessel would!" said the first mate in passing.

It was not long before the crew had finished casting off and the H.M.C.S.V. Lily Anne was off on her maiden voyage.

[Elvenlord]

Captain Elendir stood apart from the rest of the group after first mate went about his business. The young soldier was slightly irked he could not take part in the battle he had rode so long to join, but more pressing was how his own men would fare. Mithelen Elendir gazed out into the sea, lost in thought. Sighing, he decided he would just have to trust in his goddess, and of course his Lord Steel to see them through.
The Praetorian Captain walked about the ship, looking with wonder at the ship's workings. He knew very little about boats, and these new contraptions interested him greatly. Sails have bee used for ages, he know that, but this... this maw that spit out dark smoke. What was this? And it seemed from within the ship's belly came a strange sound of scraping steel. It was almost unnerving.
Mithelen looked about. He recognized very few of those on deck, only General Shadow, and even then he only knew him by reputation. He walked up to some unknown companion and introduced himself. "Captain Mithelen Elendir of the Praetorian, at your service."

[SL the Pyro]

(OOC: Okay guys, we really need to get this thread moving. Let's see if I can give it a jumpstart.)

--------------------

You seem concerned.

Shadow had been gazing out at the sea, trying to collect his thoughts... until his own "imaginary" friend had wormed his way into them. He looked around, making sure there was no one near him... no one to hear him. He didn't want to be put under the ridicule for talking to himself like the General Magnus was. When he next looked out to the waves, he focused his mind's eye, his magic sense. Two seconds later, a faded version of his traveling companion appeared in front of him. Roughly the same size of the ship he was sailing on, a giant flaming... eagle? Griffin? Falcon? He wasn't sure just what kind of species of avian he could compare Phoenix to... if there was anything that could compare. He'd never seen any creature like this in all his travels.

He had to wonder, could anyone else with a magic sense like his see Phoenix? If so... he'd have to make sure they kept quiet about it.

In response to his question, Shadow let out a heavy sigh. "We're leaving everyone behind... I don't like getting dragged away from a big battle like that. It's almost painful to wait and see the end result."

Do you not have faith in your comrades?

He felt offended by this. "N-no, that's not it! There's no way Koridai could possibly lose to remnants of the Alliance... especially since Chikara went with them." he said, trying to reassure himself. Personally he had no experience with the "Goddess'" power... but that one time he had seen her since he returned from the third continent in the past, he could feel her strength. So much of it that his blood had began to react... that only happened when something light- or dark-oriented directly touched his blood, and yet the mere dark force she exuded made his blood boil. If that was the power she possessed, surely the Alliance stood no chance. Still... "But I just have this... feeling that I'm missing something important back there..."

That may be so... but it will do you no good to dwell on it now.

Shadow know he was right.

In any event, if your commander would send you away from the battlefield and onto this mission, then it must be equally important, or perhaps even moreso.

"Which begs the question..." Shadow paused, before looking at the entrance to the captain's cabin. "What the devil are we doing on this mission?"

He was starting to get impatient again. Well... seasickness wasn't a laughing matter, this he knew from personal experience. Plus, Ransom was more used to flying instead of sailing, so it was bound to be unsettling for him. Still... Shadow did have a remedy if it was needed. He took out his vial of ginger pills... there were only four left. Damn, he hadn't gotten to refill them. Still, there were enough for him and Ransom for the round trip. And if his seasickness didn't subside soon... well, would he be able to keep a pill down? Cramming the thing down his throat was tempting right now if it'd get him back on his feet and ready for the briefing...

Edited by SL the Pyro, 04 August 2010 - 02:49 PM.

[Steel Samurai]

The steam engines made excellent time. Ten days in, and they had nearly reached the halfway point of their journey. Ransom had remained holed up in his cabin for most of the journey, poring over old maps, charts, and books that Steel had sent with him. The amiable first mate had served as the squadron's first port of call.

"Don'tcha worry now laddies. The c'mmander knows exactly what he's doin'. Your time shan't be wasted atall." He told them one day, cheerful as always. "In fact, I hear tell that Lord Steel places the highest importance on this here mission ye be leavin' on. It be vital for much of the plot progression to come."

The sailing was easy, for the most part. But then, about halfway to their destination, they ran into a small . . . snag.

Alliance ships. Three of them, filled to the brim with troops for the wars on Verden.

"Mmm, now this is a problem laddies. We should try an' stop them if we can."

[Renegade]

We've been on this ship for far too long. Were the first thoughts in Alabast's mind. Water made him uneasy. Alabast sat up in his cot, reaching over to grab his katana. He drew it from it's sheath, the fire red blade seeming to illuminate the dimly lit underbelly of the ship. Alabast started looking at his blade.

It seems as if the blade itself is made of fire, I wonder where master could have obtained such a weapon..

With that Alabast cleared his mind and started going through his flame manipulation exorcises, starting with the tip of the blade to engulfing the blade in flame to segmenting it along the blade in various places to summoning fire on his fingertips.

Now that I'm done with this..Maybe some fresh air. Sheathing his blade and attaching it at his left side Alabast got up and went on deck.

As he got up there the first mate came walking out to make an announcement..and then. Alliance vessels..

Great, the one place fire is almost useless. On top of a large body of water..

[Egann]

The library's literature on producing and manipulating lightning runes was in hot demand. Well, hot enough demand that Egann couldn't get indefinite loans on them. So, he settled for a book he could get an indefinite loan on. Flaecher and Splyce's Official Alliance Encyclopedia of Knots, their Construction, Effects, and Applications Volume 3: Marine Knots, Marlinespike Stevedor through Vibration-Proof Hitch.

And that was just the book for the journey there.

Well...you'll never be a knot short, at least.

Something was...off. Egann could probably put his finger on a dozen good logical reasons why he was suddenly feeling so uncomfortable about the mission. Ransom hadn't appeared once in front of the rest of them, and even between seasick and documents nothing warranted THAT. This cutter was too small for deep water (as per Komitaan Maritime Search and Rescue recommendations...which no one seemed to care for on Verden). But mostly, what got to him was that there weren't any butterflies in his belly. Something bad was coming.

And you know what the funny thing is? Before you got me, you never had any gut reactions. Oh, no. All cold and logic for you. Chew on that, why don't you. You'll choke when you swallow.

Egann had just finished the Quadrangle Jury Mast knot, a knot you use to tie a makeshift mast down to the deck because it allows you to use one length of rope, but anchor the mast in four directions. Then a hand knocked on his door and told him to get his ass on the deck on the double. Egann abandoned the book -still open to page 506- snagged his sword and flew up the stairs to the deck while he still struggled putting on his jacket.

Alliance ships. Alabast was already on deck. Egann borrowed the first mate's glass to take a closer look.

Three ships, all bearing Alliance colors; two transports, escorted by a frigate. Whatever was on those transports, the Alliance didn't want to loose without a fight.

Sun caught the edge of a man in armor -men in armor- exercising on the deck of the rearmost transport.

Egann offered the glass to Alabast. "A troop convoy. That frigate escorting them has enough firepower to sink this ship in one broadside. One shot if the boiler catches any. Even if it's just grape-shot."

"We've gotta stop em, though! Those reinforcements could kill...Lazu knows how many of ours!" The mate growled. "That, and they've gotta noticed the steam. A fight's inevitable!"

Egann thought for a second. "We can tempt that frigate away from those transports by offering the Lily Anne as bait. I'm sure the crew of any frigate would love to make a bounty of a ship like this. After that, though, it's a race to take out the transports before the frigate can catch us. You think you can outrun a frigate at 14 knots?"

The first mate was hesitant. "I...Lily Anne's hit 12...once...."

[Ransom]

Ooc: Ok boys, this is all my fault. Deepest apologies to all of you (especially shadow) and thanks for the good attitudes and continual posts despite my absence. Ive had a big last couple of months but i think things are finally calming down. I'm thinking we get this shit up and going like the old days!


"Sails!"

Ransom's lithe form practically hurtled out of the cabin. He was barely dressed, donning only his breechers and various tribal tidbits peculiarly dangling on his wrists and neck. His eyes darted to the mate, and then to the ocean.

"Alliance ships?"

"Aye commander. Coming up on us fast to."

Ransom looked at the frigate carving a path through the waves towards them. A dangerous looking vessel indeed. And flanked by... two transports? The frigate was an escort. But why was it on the offensive?

The only option was to outrun it or die. Ransom looked around at the steaming ship. It was supposed to be the pinnacle of sailing technology, the envy of Calatia and the genius of Vildmark personified. High time he saw what it could really do.
He turned to the mate again.

"I want this ship at full sail and full engine capacity now!" He looked back at the frigate looming directly behind them.

"And head 40 degrees to the left of the prow, it's moving too fast to maneuver anything like we can."

The mate nodded and began to abusively shout orders to the rest of the crew. The deck erupted with activity.

"I want combat personnel on standby!" He looked for his captains, "If this goes to the dogs we have to be more than ready!"

Ransom stepped back into his cabin to dress himself, his stomach still churning. He ignored it. No time for sickness now. Weakness would not win battles or ensure their escape, so what use was it? He let out on big cough, as if releasing this deficiency into the air. He left it behind him as he strapped on his weapons and stepped outside once more. The physical feeling of the turning ship was immediately evident; not so the effectiveness of maneuver. The frigate only seemed to be gaining faster as it smoothly met it's prey's angle.

He cursed silently and called the mate to him.

"Report." The mate grimaced seriously at his expression.

"Goin' as fast we can sir! One of the shore party - Egann ah' think the laddie's name was - is sayin' that the transports holdin' reinforcements for the battle sir. Shud' we try and go around and take them from behind?"

"How fast are we going now?"

"13 knots sir, and climbing." The noise from under the deck confirmed that the ship was working it's damned hardest, and there was only so much the sails could add.

The plan seemed silly, but he had gotten away with twice as much audacity before. It was worth a shot. He called Egann to him.

"Egann is it? Tell me this ingenius plan."

[Egann]

Does this guy know ANYTHING about sailing?!

Egann brutally bit his tongue. Talking back to the Colonel had done him less than no good, hadn't it?

But in any case, I do have a plan. A four objective mission, straight out of Infantry Scouts, in fact.

Objective one: Lead the Frigate away from the Convoy.

"Sir," Egann saluted. "Our first objective needs to be to tempt that frigate away from those transports. Getting him to start following us shouldn't be too difficult; any frigate captain would want to take the Lily Anne as bounty. Once he's following us, things get tricky. If we go too fast, he'll figure catching us will take too long and return to the convoy. If we go too slow, we won't have enough of a lead for the next objective. To do this just right, we have to let him catch up to us, but slowly."

Objective Two: Race the Frigate back to the Convoy.

"When the frigate is good and away from the convoy, we have to turn around and sprint for the convoy. If we don't get going fast enough or if we let the frigate catch up too much earlier, we won't have enough time for objective three."

Objective Three: Sink the Transports.

"Here's where things start getting tricky; sinking the transports. I'd strongly recommend not getting close to them, because at this point they'll know we want to sink them and they'll be trying to do the same to us. They've got a few swivel cannon just like we do, but if they hit us in the boiler....let's just say there won't be anything left. And trust me; they will be aiming for the boiler.

"Sinking a ship with their pumps running and sailors trying to patch the holes requires quite a bit of damage. We're talking...two or three three-foot holes in their hull below the water line. Our cannons can't do that, and -unless you happened to to have brought limpet mines and skin-diving equipment- I don't really have any good ideas."

Objective Four: Sink the Frigate.

"After that is the really hard part. Sinking the Frigate. If getting close to the transports was a bad idea, getting close to that frigate is suicidal. We get to within 300 yards and they hit us with a full broadside? Even if by some miracle they don't hit the boiler, we're still screwed. Yet we can't let it escape. Imagine an alliance frigate prowling on Koridai's shipping just outside the Imperial Wharf. Those canons could also bomb our troops anywhere in costal regions."

Egann thought for a moment. "Yeah. We need to find a way to sink those ships. Other than swimmers with limpet mines, I've got nothing." He took a deep breath. "Sabotaging a ship anchored in a harbor is hard enough. No one's ever tried a moving one in deep, open water. Much less three."

[Ransom]

"I like it so far." Ransom gave Egann an affirming nod, "However, we won't be sinking the frigate..." He paused, "Well not conventionally anyway. The Lily Anne's got nothing on the shitstorm that tub of gunpowder's gonna unleash."

Ransom looked back at the three vessels, temporarily lost in concentrated thought. Sinking three ships that size in their current situation seemed completely impossible. They had a pathetic ship built for science not combat, and probably the worst excuse for firepower on the seven seas. Definitely impossible.

But Ransom had come out of the other side of the impossible, and had emerged victorious... more than once, especially recently. The normal laws of nature and chance seemed to bend and skew around the goddess. Overwhelming odds were becoming a powerful ally... especially if you fought for the right side.
Even so, this situation was looking like a lost cause. There was nothing for it but to just run outright.

As he began to formulate his new orders verbally, Ransom remembered something.

"OK... I got something." he motioned for the mate. "Get everyone prepared for erratic maneuvering, also, I need the whole mission squadron up here."

The mate stared blankly.

"You get all that Angus?" The usually cheerful mate snapped out of his stupor, nodded seriously, and walked off to do some shouting.

Ransom summoned Alabast from the deck himself. The tall warrior moved with a certain sober grace, and his posture emanated a well practiced, disciplined fighter. This was something Ransom found particularly dangerous, after all, the virtues one lacks are always the most frightening.


"You and Shadow are good with fire, no?"

Edited by RNSM, 09 August 2010 - 03:32 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

Ugh, what a commotion! And just when he was finally getting some decent sleep, too... Shadow grumpily stomped out from below decks, half-asleep but very angry. His hat was lopsided on his head and his cape was hastily put on. He grabbed the shoulder of the nearest shipmate and asked him, "What in blazes is going on? Why is everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off?"

His response was to point out to sea... the General could make out three vague silhouettes of ships. "An Alliance convoy, sir. Headed straight for us."

"Wh...what!?" Shadow stammered, not pleased with this news and now very wide awake because of it. He took the time to right his clothing as the skipper explained the situation.

"Two troop transports and one frigate, armed to the teeth." he says, before returning to his duties.

Troop transports... no doubt they were en route to their dear friends tangling with Chikara and Steel's forces. But a frigate? Shadow had thought all of the Alliance ships had either been sunk or commandeered by either Calatia or Koridai, especially the frigates due to their firepower. Obviously it was meant to escort the troops, but even on its own it was a big problem. This could prove to be an interesting day... "Well, they have good timing at least. I've been loitering on this ship for a week getting madder and madder with nothing to take it out on."

After a cursory glance of the deck, he saw... Ransom. Geez, he's finally awake!? Shadow wasted no time making his way over to him as he conversed with Egann... he arrived just in time to hear the full explanation of the plan. Well... he had to admit, he was bold for considering sinking three ships at once. But it wasn't impossible.

However... something was really nagging at him. Destroying three enemy ships would take up a lot of resources... and this ship was built for speed. That meant less weight, which meant less resources, which he was afraid meant less battlements. Running out of cannonballs and bombs and the like in the middle of a 3-on-1 naval battle would mean certain death for everyone on the Lily Anne. "Do we even have enough battlements to take on three Alliance ships at once? Who has the manifest?"

[Elvenlord]

Captain Mithelen Elendir stood confused. He had donned his full armour at the first shouts of alliance ships, and now stood waiting. Sea combat confused him, and the Praetorian Captain did not like it. At all. Why was he sent on this voyage anyways? He was a soldier, plain and simple. Sure, he was somewhat of an expert at close quarter and defensive tactician. But what did he know of sea combat? Perhaps that's why he made the suggestion.

"Why don't we just take their ships? You know, getting on their ship and taking the fight to them personally?"

ooc: Just how many people are on our ship? Even a land captain wouldn't suggest that if we have few people
Edit: I'm aware of what it's like Egann, but my guy isn't. That's all I could think up of anyways

Edited by Elvenlord, 10 August 2010 - 08:11 PM.

[Egann]

OoC: Elven...think of the task before us as using a modern pleasure yacht to take on a destroyer and two supply ships. In real life...we'd run for our lives. Horatio Hornblower, however, did exactly as you suggested. So it's not as absolutely ludicrous as you think.



Egann knew Ransom was going to do his own thing the instant he came up barking preparations for maneuvers. That's just what commanding officers did; ask underlings their thoughts as if their inputs, then ignore them, perhaps after explaining why we're not doing something particularly stupid. And a part of him was glad Ransom played the part. Adopted, it was his idea, his responsibility, his fault if it didn't work. Ignored it was just another one of Egann's many ideas that would never be. Help him it would not, but it wouldn't hurt anybody, either.

He'd had a lot of ideas like that.

Still, I have my doubts. Maneuvers outside of canon range are kinda...pointless. Not unless Ransom wants to sail circles around them and steal the windgage. Wouldn't that be useless on a part-steam ship like this? Ransom obviously knows something you don't. Many things, more likely than not.


An alliance frigate and two transports against a dinghy sitting on a steam-powered bomb. The prospect of swimming to Komitaa never sounded more tempting.

[Renegade]

Ooc: Sorry for that little lag for Alabast. Sometimes RL gets me

Alabast had been listening to everyone watching them run around with no immediate commands while the ships gained. Ransom was now summoning him.

"You and Shadow are good with fire, no?"

"While I can't speak for him I do specialize in fire and in the art of the katana, sir."

As for Shadow, I cant shake this..vibe? pulse?..and there is that vague shape he talks to as well..the way he carries himself, very dangerous fellow
Those thoughts raced through his head though he didn't show it well, his eyes flickered from Ransom to Shadow and back.

"Sir, with all do respect, something needs to be decided their still gaining."

[Ransom]

In moments they had all gathered towards the rear of the ship. Angus had been efficient.

"While I can't speak for him I do specialize in fire and in the art of the katana, sir."

"Good." Ransom said with a nod, before turning to the rest of them. "And you were all chosen for this mission for your exceptional skill in the arts of war, yes?"

There was a general agreeance.

"Than we're going to do things a bit differently." he hurriedly began to walk them towards the entrance to the hold, explaining quickly as he went. "Along with this ship gifted to us by Vildmark, we as a nation have had certain new..." he paused looking for the right word, "'ideas' brought to our attention. In the hold of this vessel are weapons and technology that will allow a single soldier to board an enemy ship, plant a subversive object, and escape without a single weapon drawn..."

He opened the latch to the main trapdoor and motioned for them to follow him into the hold.

"Of course, I should let you know that this technology has not been properly tested, so I will not force any of you to except this mission, we can always send another soldier. However I have chosen all of you because you are apparently some of the best Koridai has to offer, and... let's just say I am eager to see what you can do."

At the very back of the ship, Ransom opened a large, sealed red crate and started to rummage through the contents inside. He found what he was looking for and held it up to them. It was a long black cylinder, about the size of a banana, with what seemed to be some kind of wick coming out of one end.

"This is a 'Dynamyte', and it is the latest in Vildmarkian innovation. We are going to use these to sink the enemy vessels."

He assumed they were skeptical.

"They don't look like much, but these aren't just any old gunpowder bombs. Dynamyte pack a ludicrous amount of punch for their size."

He handed it to Shadow to examine and then continued to rummage through the crate, talking strategy as he did so. "We will be working in teams of two, one team for each enemy ship."

He seemed to find his next desired object and pulled it out, beginning to strap on what looked like some kind of huge exotic backpack.

"Because of their experience with fire, Shadow will head up the first team consisting of him and Captain Elendir," Pausing to frustratingly fiddle with the backpack, Ransom went on, "And Alabast the second team with Egann. Both teams will be targeting the two transports."

Seemingly finished adjusting, he straightened up, revealing some kind of large fin protruding from the bottom of the backpack.

"I will head up the third team with Angus, and we will attack the frigate." Angus nodded from the back. "The idea is that once you reach the deck of the ship, one of you will create a diversion, while the other plants the dynamyte. As soon as the sabotage is complete, you get the hell out."

Ransom gripped some kind of mechanical gear that was hanging over in front of him from the backpack with both hands and pulled hard.

"As for your method of transport..."

As Ransom locked the device into place, two large wooden films sprang out to the left and right of him, creating a miniature tornado on either side.


They were wings.




Ooc:
Visual aid:

Spoiler

[Egann]

Hm. Ransom's got style, at least. Doesn't know sailing, but he does know flying. Fights on his terms, not theirs.

"Fire so you can light the fuse, eh?" Egann nudged at Alabast. "Take care of that and I am all over that distraction."

Although personally, one pair per ship is a bit light when we could take the ships out one at a time. The frigate will be particularly hard if they get some cannons loaded with grape-shot pointed skyward. Ransom's given himself a heavy boot to lift, that's for sure.

"Two questions," Egann raised his hand. "One. How long is this going to take and who's going to skipper the Lilly Anne while we're away? Two, this Dynamyte might be strong, but you still seem to think setting the charges will take a moment. Certaintly more than 'light the fuse and drop it on the deck.' Got any particular spot in mind?"


EDIT: OoC:

"Of course, I should let you know that this technology has not been properly tested, so I will not force any of you to except this mission, we can always send another soldier. However I have chosen all of you because you are apparently some of the best Koridai has to offer, and... let's just say I am eager to see what you can do."

Accept. Except in this context would mean that you are going to force us to just this once. [/grammar nazi]

Edited by Egann, 11 August 2010 - 10:54 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow inspected the "Dynamyte" as Ransom called it with excitement. True to his words, it didn't look like much... but having handled explosives in many different occasions, he had a certain feel for them. Despite its small size, it was at least twice as heavy as it appeared... a sign that there was a lot of material packed into it, probably crammed in to the absolute limit. More combustible material means a bigger and more powerful blast. Placed correctly, just one of these would probably sink even the frigate with little problem.

Which was the next question that Egann had raised: where to set the charges. "When you're trying to sink a ship, you need to aim for where the water will flow in." Shadow explained. "I can tell these explosives give the most bang for their buck. Just one in the interior of the ship's bottom, or as close as we can get it to there, should do the trick nicely."

The General turned his gaze away from the explosive and back towards Ransom, who was tinkering with his mechanical wings... if he would try the non-tested invention himself, he must have a great deal of faith in it.

"The plan seems rather simple to me. One person wreaks havoc on the deck, while the other sneaks inside and drops death on the floor." He looks to Elendir. "If you don't mind placing the bomb Elendir, I can easily raise enough hell to keep the soldiers off your back."

[Elvenlord]

"If you so desire, General" coming sharply to a salute. Then Captain Eleir relaxed, and glanced at his armor. "Ah, General, I feel awkward for asking, but would you perhaps," eying the mechanical wings with distrust, "help me out of most of my armor?"

Shadow laughed, but helped fumble with the various buckles and straps until Captain Mithelen stood only with a chain mail shirt and his longsword as arms.

Walking over to his newly found pair of wings, he asked "How do I get this contraption on?"

[Egann]

"Elendir, you got a tinder box?" Egann asked. "Here. Use mine." He dug around his neck to pull out a tied up wad on a leather thong and tossed it to Elendir. "It's just a flint and steel tied around a wad of char cloth. The instant you hit that char cloth with a spark it's going to turn into a massive glowing ember. I've gotten fires started in thunderstorms with that. Trust me. You'll have no problems lighting that fuse."

Egann looked to Elendir's pile of discarded outer armor. "Hey, Angus, you wouldn't happen to have about a hundred feet of half-inch manila rope I could use? I could use some armor myself."

"Manila rope is armor?"

"In disguise, yes. Not quite as good as leather armor, but a lot cheaper. And quite a bit lighter, too."

Thirty seconds later, Egann had applied a half-dozen half-hitches to each forearm to make rigger gauntlets, and had moved on to doing the same treatment to make a torso wrap, thigh, and calf pads. Not a shiny or elegant armor, but a little smoothing out the kinks here and tightening the knots there made the whole operation fit under Egann's tunic nicely without chafing. You'd never know he was wearing armor by looking at him.

"Alrighty. I'm good to go."

Edited by Egann, 13 August 2010 - 10:24 AM.

[Renegade]

This should prove entertaining.

Alabast reached out and grabbed one of the cylinders, dynamite I think he called this?, then one of the flying contraptions.

Having watched Elendir get the tutorial, Alabast understood.

"Egann is it? Having never fought along side you before I'm placing a lot of trust in you, however I already believe it not to be misplaced, with your cunning in some of the strategies and this makeshift armor."

Alabast let a small smile fall upon his face, the thought of the coming endeavor exciting him.

"I look forward to this Egann. I'll be on the deck when your ready to take off."

With that Alabast made his way to the deck and strapped on the flying mechanism.

The ships wont be about another 20 minutes before their within firing range.

Not too much for yelling Alabast yelled down below, "We had better hurry!!"

[Ransom]

Ooc: daamnnittt. Just lost this long ass post explaining all this shit about the mission. Damn girlfriend quitting my browser.
Alright second one turned out longer than the first.
Sorry if this is a bit shotty.





Now completely separated from the two transports, the frigate was bearing down on the Lily Anne at full speed, the adorned figurehead that graced its prow slicing through the water like a huge knife. They had taken the bait just as Egann had suspected... the chase had begun.

On deck, all efforts were being made to get the Lily Anne moving as fast as possible. At full sail and with the boiler room additionally manned, the vessel was finally reaching the required 14 knots to keep up with the frigate. However, smoke was flooding out of the release pipes protruding from the hull at an alarming rate, and the noise of the engine sounded like a herd of dying cattle, making it almost hard to talk. They we're pushing her to her limits, and only time could tell if the ship would cope or not.

Emerging from the trap door, Ransom quickly took them up to the Stern. This was where they would lift off. With a run-up and the right kind of dive, Ransom had propounded that the back of the steamship would provide a high enough platform for a successful take off and steady flight for at least 10 ship’s lengths, which was more than enough distance to reach the other vessels if all went well. Successfully escaping the doomed ships once they were done would probably be the real problem.

All in all it was a risky manoeuvre based mostly on theory and little on practice. He just hoped to Chik that he was right.

As the others we’re fitting their gliders on, he quickly explained to them how they would lift off, going through the mechanics of the flying craft as he went. Hearing was a difficulty, forcing Ransom to raise his voice over the wind and the roar of the engine.

“You steer with these two levers here, making sure not to overdo it. With gliders like this, prudence is the key, keeping it level and straight being the most effective way of executing a smooth flight. You can beat the airfoils by pumping your elbows like so, allowing a small gain in altitude. Again, keep this at a minimum as hitting an ugly angle will cause a dive, shoving you straight in the water. Angus and I will be diving directly from the back of the stern, and you four from either side depending on which transport you are attacking.”

He took a breath and looked back at the impending frigate. It was bigger.

“We don’t have much time, but as for your questions Egann, Shadow’s right. Anywhere near the bottom of the ship is a desirable spot for the charge, however if you’re pressed for time - which you will be – right under the mast will be fine. With a blast like these things,” He motioned down to the small crate full of the explosives and grinned, “anywhere on the ship would at least incapacitate if not sink any bleedin’ vessel on the seven seas.”

The transports we’re almost out of view now. It was time to start turning. He motioned to Angus, who rushed to the helm.

“Once we hit the sweet spot, we’re not gonna have much time. If you take too long, one of the ships will be free to strike offensively, so we need to be efficient. This also explains why we are doing this separately. If all three ships aren’t boarded and sabotaged simultaneously, then the plan is pointless. The Lily should be out of the clusterfuck by the time the Dynamyte goes, and will avoid the blast. Just make sure the bomb is down and you’re off the ship before the fact. If all goes well, we should be able to safely round everyone up afterwards.”

Everyone’s gliders were on and secured, and Ransom began to distribute the dynamyte when he remembered something.

“Lieutenant Hurst!”

A stern, pale-faced officer appeared.

“Sir?”

“Take command of the ship. We begin our assault soon.”

“Sir.”

He saluted sharply and took on his authority without skipping a beat, issuing orders like a seasoned admiral.

By this time the Lily Anne had come almost completely round, nearly facing the transports. The frigate, struggling to starboard as sharply as the Lily had, was finally dropping back a small distance. They hadn’t expected a manoeuvre like that, and Ransom finally felt a little more in control. This might actually work.

As they drew closer to the transports, something within Ransom was beginning to itch for the battle, yearning for the slaughter ahead. It was invigorating yet disturbing all at once, and Ransom wasn’t sure how to respond. He hadn’t felt like this since the chasm, and he realised he had been craving it; craving the conflict, the bloodshed, the pure energy of it all.

Craving the chaos.

They were close now, and though the transports had little weaponry, they were readying their position for some kind of defensive counter, probably not sure how to respond to the Lily’s sudden and whimsical aggression. The most important thing for the Koridaiens now was timing, which if blundered would jeopardise the ship.
The Lily Anne was beginning to slow down as she approached the transports, just as Ransom had intended. If they got this right, they would all take off just as the ship was at the midpoint between the transports and the frigate, which meant, (if the transports stayed static) they should all be sunk around the same area, with the Lily Anne already a safe distance away.

He felt for his knives underneath his cloak, and smiled.

Control. As long as he kept control.

“This," he held up his stick of dynamyte to the others, "is the last thing they will expect. Use that to your advantage.”

It was almost time. He looked over at Angus and the others: Koridai’s finest. It was time to see what they could really do.

Angus seemed to measure the distance of the three ships with his eyes and gave Ransom a nod.

Here we go.

“Alright, NOW!”


Ransom gripped the levers tightly and flipped his wings out like two swords coming out of a single sheath. He sprinted the short distance to the end of the deck and jumped.

Edited by RNSM, 13 August 2010 - 02:09 PM.